Close enough. Despite the stone in my stomach, I fought back a smile. “I can’t believe you drove all the way here.”
“We started a week ago,” she said. Which meant that the last time I had talked to her, she had lied about getting her hair done the next morning. Sneaky. “I thought if my only child can drive up to Maine, then I could, too. And you were right about it all—it’s so lovely up here. I don’t see how you could leave.”
I thought about the contract on Eula’s desk, and the will, and I felt sick to my stomach.
Mom put a steadying hand on my arm. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
“There’s someone I made a promise to, but I don’t think I can keep it,” I managed to say, looking down at the grass. My eyes burned with frustrated tears, but I blinked them away. “I don’t know how to. I thought I did, but …”
But clouds got in the way, and then time, and now it was too late.
“You’ve never given up before,” she said slowly, thinking.
“Maybe this is a first.”
“I doubt it,” Mom replied. She squeezed my arm tightly and gave me a knowing look. “You’re not one to break a promise, sprout. You didn’t break your promise to Harrie, and you won’t break this other one, either.”
Mom just didn’t understand, but I appreciated her confidence in me, even though I refused to have it within myself.
Suddenly, the microphone squealed.
Mom and I jumped, startled, and spun toward the stage.
The music came to an abrupt stop, and Wykofski cleared his throat. “Erm, sorry, sorry. Still gettin’ used to this mic. Euls?” he called, looking down. “Take it away!”
At first, I couldn’t see anyone else at the microphone, but between the bodies of people was the glimmer of a sparkly pink dress. She sat at the corner of the stage and waved at everyone. “Well! What a fine group of people on my lawn tonight. I’m not sure why all of you are here. It seems like a waste of such a pleasant evening!”
The crowd rippled with laughter and with mock-boos.
“But,” she went on, holding up a cracker full of Brie noir, “Juliette did make a perfect cheese board, so I can understand why you all stuck around.” More cheers. I laughed. Eula found me in the crowd, and winked, before she turned her sights on the party at hand. “Though I am very offended by the lack of debauchery at this party. What, Juliette, just because I’m old, you think I wouldn’t like a good show?”
Someone—probably one of the firefighters—shouted, “We’ll give you that for free, Euls!”
“I’ll keep you to that,” she replied happily. And then with a deep breath, twining her fingers around the microphone’s wire, she said, “Joking aside, thank you for being here, and forcelebrating everything that Henry and I spent years learning to grow. Since his passing, I’ve felt lost—too afraid to move forward and too stubborn to look back, and so because of that the gardens haven’t changed, either. But recently, I remembered a saying he always told me when I got too deep in the weeds. He’d say, ‘Eula, a garden is for growing.’
“What he was saying was a garden is meant for change. It’s meant to become something new, over and over and over again. And Lilymoor has been in winter since Henry died. Though lately, I’ve been wondering if maybe I should let it go into spring again. So I reached out for help, and the universe sent me Sophie Drear.” She found me again, standing by the willow in the back, and raised her glass of champagne to me. “Everyone should thank her when you get the chance. She saved this place, and did more for it than I have done in a decade. Which is why I am retiring, and I’m sure that’s why you all are here, and what better night than on Lilymoor’s loveliest two hundredth birthday?”
The crowd cheered. And the wind blew through the willow trees.
“Henry and I never had any children, but every summer of their childhood, my great-nephews, Ollie and Rus, would come visit, and it was the most magical time. I wasn’t really a children kind of person to begin with, but I liked being the fun aunt, and Henry loved being an uncle. We didn’t think about legacy. We planted flowers, and he watched his favorite—honeysuckle—grow.” She sank into silence, her fingers still nervously twisting the microphone cord through them, over and over again. “But gardens are strange things. They can be full of flowers, or trees, or herbs, or food, and I think Henry’sbest garden isn’t a place. I think it’s the people here at Lilymoor, and I think he would agree. And I’m so thankful to share it with all of you. He crafted the gardens of Lilymoor with one simple thing in mind: that no matter where you walk, where you wander, all paths will lead you back home.”
Home.I knew what that looked like now.
And despite it all, I didn’t regret anything that led me here. It didn’t matter whether I liked Rus, I would have helped him anyway. I was the master of impossible tasks, of wasted time. I tried even when I already knew the outcome.
No matter what I chose, I would have still been here regardless.
Even if I hadn’t loved Lilymoor as much as I did, when Jeff came to me asking about the position, telling me I was the best for the job, I would have come despite it all. If I hadn’t gotten to know Rus, I still would have promised to help him. I still would have wanted to reunite Oliver with his best friend. I still would have tried to convince two nephews that Lilymoor was worth the time. There wasn’t a single thing I would have done differently.
All paths in the garden led here.
All paths in the garden—
I sucked in a breath.
“Sorry, I—I have to go,” I said to Mom in a rush, as I spun on my heel and raced out of the Willow Grove.
I needed a sledgehammer—and fast.
